(0.00 / 0 votes) “
When a conglomerate of thunder clouds collided in the cosmos,
Infinite splinters of water pelted down in fury; gently bruising naked patches of my skin.
When multiple balls of bulky glass clashed with tumultuous fury,
Acerbic splinters of jagged mirror pierced with hostile fervor through my skin; prompting crimson blood to flow.
When I dexterously sliced colossal chunks of tree lumber with my serrated pickaxe,
Pulverized splinters of saw dust flew in unsymmetrical unison; inundating my eyeball with series of allergy.
When obdurate balls of round steel smashed tenaciously with each other,
Minuscule splinters of metal settled haphazardly on my scalp; with obstreperous cacophony tickling my eardrum.
When I pricked the gargantuan balloon with a rusted pin; tones of air blew out at overwhelming speeds,
Soft splinters of rubber descended down on my feet; and I slipped while walking inadvertently on the same.
When menacing masses of ice tumbled down the mountain; they formed a monstrous
Which diffused into incommensurate splinters after striking the ground; stabbing my flesh like a quiver full of arrows.
When I shook a barrel full of fermented cream vigorously in the air,
Decayed splinters of milk splashed disdainfully across my face; with a stench of rotten rat emanating; besieging all in proximity.
When I placed a mammoth elephant tusk in amicable contact with circulating
blades of the ceiling fan,
Bountiful splinters of powder blended with small bone infiltrated into my nostril; making me vociferously sneeze.
When I entered the unscrupulous ambience of the darkened cloth factory,
Irascible splinters of cotton fiber camouflaged my cheek; instigating me to voraciously scratch.
And eventually when the immaculate crystal of her splendor; burst with a bang
over my forehead,
A myriad of victimized arenas in my silhouette; relinquished pain instantly,
Wounded avenues of my heart and soul perpetually healed; after being injected with splinters of her unprejudiced love.
Discuss this Nikhil Parekh poem with the community:
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
"The Splinters Of Love" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 7 Dec. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/51282/the-splinters-of-love>.